


Remnants of Her

by inferablefiend



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Adventures, But smut, Chargers, F/M, Finding herself, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Iron Bull - Freeform, Slow Burn, Violence, Will add more characters as they pop up, definitely mature for a reason, identity crisis, terrible smut cause i cant write smut, will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12784638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inferablefiend/pseuds/inferablefiend
Summary: Ixia Trevelyan wants adventure, but living under the thumb of her mother and already destined for a job in the Templar, she knows she won't find any. So for the mean time, she lives her life one day at a time. Bring in the Chargers who are hired to take care of a darkspawn infestation at a farm nearby. Called by the sounds of the battle, she meets the charming Iron Bull.  Something about her strikes him as different. Bull wants to take her away from her home, give her a life she'll be proud of. But will he give her more than that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really do suck at summaries. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> The Iron Bull may be a little OCC. I'm finding his voice as well as I can.

“Did you hear about the problem at Nabbor’s farm down the road? They had an infestation of Darkspawn,” Ixi’s mother says to her. “They called in a group of some kind of mercenaries. Led by…”But Ixi isn’t paying attention. She’s picking at the small plate her mother, Bele, put in front of her. Some potatoes and barely any meat. While her mother and father enjoys the full course.

“Ixia, when I am talking, I expect you to pay attention,” Bele says, snapping her fingers in front of Ixi’s face.

Ixi blinks. She doesn’t care what her mother has to say about the mercenaries. 

Samuel, her father, stares at her until Ixi looks up to meet his eyes. “Are you alright, dear?” he asks. 

“I guess I’m not very hungry.” She is starving, but she needs to get away from the table. “I’ll be out in the training yard.”

Bele and Samuel don’t pay attention to her leaving. Nor do they know that she hasn’t eaten what’s been given to her. Her mother’s reasoning for giving her such small portions was to keep her weight manageable. “You’re looking a little chunky, dear.”

_ Chunky. Chunky _ . Her mentor swore up and down when she found out Bele was cutting some of Ixia’s food. “Does that insane woman realize that you need that food to put on muscle? How does she expect you to survive the Templar Order?” It was a rhetorical question, one Ixia answered anyway.

“She doesn’t.” It’s enough to shut her mentor up. After that, her mentor took it easier. Giving her shorter lessons and not going at her as hard. Which Ixi hated. If she was out in the wilds and starving, the enemies wouldn’t take it easy. They wouldn’t mind her energy and make sure she had plenty of water. They’d kill her and it would only be easier on them.

Ixi opens the door, welcoming the fresh, cool spring air as it washed over her body. Nobody was left in the training yard this late. A square dirt yard with three dummies still standing in the formation her mentor had them in the last they trained. She put her hand through the two handles on the back of her shield and gripped her short sword. Her thwacks against the dummy is the only sound in the air until battle cries and metal clashing with metal flits through and remains. Pausing, she looks toward Nabbor’s farm. 

Something akin to excitement crawls under her skin. It’s like they’re calling her. Only her. Almost mesmerized by the sounds themselves, she opens the gate. Her senses come rushing back, grounding her feet. 

_ Don’t leave _ , a voice says.  _ You’ll get in trouble _ . Ixi almost listens to it. Almost turns around and goes back in. But Nabbor’s farm is lit up with torches. It’s lit with the sound of battle. The one thing she doesn’t have experience in. How hard can darkspawn be really? If she could just sneak over and...Bele would never know she was gone. Ixi would be back before neither of her parents knew it.

Ixi is out. Out of the prison of the manor. Of the fenced in certainty of the training yard. Alone in the night with her weapons, no armor and no light to guide her. She uses the dancing shadows ahead to tell the edge of Nabbor’s farm. Her stomach twists at the unknown. But it’s exhilarating. Every time she wants to go beyond the confines of her parents home, they make her take at least two guards. It’s embarrassing when she has to go into Ostwick to talk to the blacksmith about the weapon he made her or have something new made.

  
She slows as she comes closer to Nabbor’s farm. It isn’t that far from where her parents built their own home, on the cliffs of the Free Marches. 

The sounds become louder, echoing across the field as if just for her. Calling her to arms. She spies five silhouetted figures, one them of hulking. He has horns on his head and he carries a massive weapon. The group tears through the Darkspawn as if it’s nothing. She comes to stop behind a tree, peeking from behind it. Ixi almost expected more people. How is she supposed to get into the heat of the battle if they definitely will notice an extra person among them?

Ixi startles at the sound of a twig breaking behind her. A darkspawn stumbles out of the darkness and towards her at almost a full run. She clumsily grabs the shield off her back and blocks the weapon from coming down. The well-made shield creaks under the weight of the creature. She gasps quietly, not wanting to bring attention to herself lest the mercenaries were the type to kill unsuspecting girls. Holding the shield in place, her knees start to buckle under the pressure. Now on her back, she places the shield on her feet and pushes up. The creature, which had been leaning fully on her shield, rotting teeth inches from her face, is launched back, hitting a low hanging tree and hisses as it lands bodily.

Ixi gets to her feet, picking up the fallen sword. She swings down, not giving herself a chance to second guess this. Her sword cleanly opens its stomach. Screams of pain erupts from it making it bend in half as the darkspawn attempts to protect its entrails. Ixi wheels back from the scream and the fountain of blood that splatters on her. They  _ felt  _ pain? It hits her like a rock. She stands, watching the blood leak out of the stomach wound. Darkspawn feel pain. It seems to strange, almost unreal. “Chief!” a male voice calls. “There’s a girl here.”

The voice scares Ixi and she backs up, tripping over the fallen creature’s body. She lands ass first into mud. It splashes up cold onto her clothes, mixing with the still warm, wet blood. In her need to put down the darkspawn, she didn’t notice they already finished off the rest. Unsure of what to make of the mercenaries that crowd around her, she puts up her shield and puts out her sword with a shaky arm. She says nothing.

“Bring light over here,” a different voice commands. His is gravelly and deep. It pulls at her in a way she can’t quite understand. Pulls at something deep in her stomach. An elf holds a torch stopping not far from Ixi. The Qunari, or at least that’s what he looks like. She’s only seen them in pictures in her books. His skin is gray and chin is covered in a short, coarse black beard. A smile lights up his face, cutting into the imposing demeanor. “Are you alright? You took down that darkspawn like a champ.” He laughs. It booms in the air around her.

Ixi tries not to whimper in fear. Tries not to allow them to see how shaken up she is from the only battle she’s ever been in her life. Ever so slowly, her sword tips to the ground until it’s out of her hands. It’s clear they won’t hurt her. The man in armor helps her up.

“You are too inexperienced to fight darkspawn,” the elf holding the torch says in a near monotone. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“I’m trained! I mean… I have training and I can fight!”

The Qunari laughs again. “Dalish, back off the poor girl. She only got curious. What’s your name?”

“Ix-Ixia.” He’s bigger than she thought Qunari would be. Of course, there’s no measurements in the book back at the manor. 

“I’m The Iron Bull. This here is Krem. Dalish is holding the torch. That’s Rocky and Stitches behind her. Did it hurt you?” The Iron Bull bends down and gets as close as he dares to her. Ixia pulls her leg close to her body, still holding the shield in front of her.

“Nu-no. He caught me off guard, but-”

“You beat his ass.” Another hearty laugh vibrates through the air. “Come on.” Bull stands, holding his hand out. Hesitantly, Ixi takes it. He nearly lifts her off of her feet getting her up.

“Are you the farmer’s daughter?” Krem asks. His eyebrows are furrowed as he inspects the symbol on the front of the shield. 

“I… No. I’m from House Trevelyan, which is just right over there.” She points to the manor behind her. “I really need to get back. My parents will be wondering where I am and I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Bull grins. “We’ll walk you there.”

Ixi shakes her head vehemently. “No. No, it’s alright. I can make it back on my own. It’s not that fair,” she says, holding her free hand up. Her voice raises a pitch in panic. There’s no way she’ll let them walk her home. If Bele finds out she left the manor without guards...muchless permission, Ixi is going to be confined to her bedroom until the day she leaves for the Templar Order.

“You barely held yourself together in that one fight in that darkspawn,” Dalish says. “If there are more, you might not arrive alive.”

Okay, Ixi doesn’t know if Dalish is trying to scare her into letting them joining her the short walk, but it’s working. 

“Chargers, ahead,” Bull yells. The five of them form a close circle around her and they walk at the fairly fast pace. Before she realizes it, they’re at the front door of the manor. 

“Wait… No. Don’t-” Krem steps up, not hearing her pleas and knocks on the door. An elven servant answers it, surprised to find such people on her doorstep.

“Can I help you?”

Bull steps forward. Ixi places a hand on her face, hoping he doesn’t say her name. Or announce her. “We’re here to escort Lady Trevelyan home.”

The elf starts to close the door. “You must be mistaken. Lady Trevelyan went to bed not that long-”

Bull steps aside and shows Ixi in her muddy and bloody glory. The servant seems to be at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing. “Ah, I see,” she finally manages. “I will get the Lord and Lady. Please come in.” She disappears and Ixi is ushered in by the group.

There are ohhs and ahhs from them. Bull is careful not to hit the chandelier with his horns. The manor was not built in mind for a seven foot Qunari. A small tussle breaks out between Rocky and Dalish. Ixi steps forward to catch a vase that’s knocked over in the pushing.

One look and a clearing of his throat makes both Dalish and Rocky stand to attention.

Bele comes down the stairs wrapped in a house coat. “Ixia, darling. Do you want to intro-” A screech ends her sentence as she takes in her daughter covered in blood. “What in the Maker did you do to my daughter?” She approaches Bull with the ferocity of a bear and jabs her finger into his chest.

Ixi looks up at the massive men. He could break her mother in two if he truly wanted to.  _ Do it.  _ She shakes her head, waiting for the inevitable anger. For the response that will tear the walls away from the house. But it never comes. In fact, he loves absolutely amused by her. As if she was a kitten and not a powerful woman with connections stretching as far as Nevarra. 

“Your daughter came to our rescue, my lady,” Bull lies. He turns his head slightly and winks...or blinks at her. It’s hard to tell as he only has one eye. 

Bele crosses her arms, not believing him. “Did she?”

“Oh yes. She jumped to our rescue without a second thought to her own safety. Saved my ass back there, she did.”

Why is he lying?

Bele uncoils her muscles, allowing her arms to drop. “Oh, I bet she did,” she says, suddenly sounding proud of Ixi. “My sweet Ixia is about as selfless as they come.” She calls for a servant and demands for the guest bedrooms to be made up. “You  _ have  _ to stay with us for the night.” Her voice is practically purring as she bats her eyelashes at Bull.

Ixi puts her sword and shield in the corner. She’ll have to come back for them as her parents under the suggestion of her mentor ordered the servants not to touch or clean the weapons.

His grin widens. Ixi stands in the foyer alone as the Chargers are led by her mother into the parlor. Did she really just flirt with The Iron Bull? Oh Andraste’s tits, what did she get herself into?

Hurriedly, she follows after them. Bele stands right outside the edge of the room, smiling. “My servant will be here shortly with plenty of Antivan wine.” Her expression changes. Corners of her mouth dip into that old crease. The one Ixi is sure is named after her. “You. That way.”

*

Bull wonders where their little Lady Treveylan went. She stood in the foyer last time he checked. Making sure the four weren’t going to cause trouble and get some kicked out of a place with a warm bed, he exits the room and follows the sound of voices.

He stops short when the tone of the voice surprises him. It’s Bele, her mother, but her voice is different. It cuts through the air like a knife. He gets as close as he can without being seen.

“Do you really think I’d believe you just jumped to the rescue of seasoned soldiers? You good-for-nothing girl. Looking for fame were you? For a chance to get your name out there before you joined the Templar Order? I’ll you something, Ixia, they won’t give a rat’s ass if you fought darkspawn.” There’s subtle movement. A foot drags across the carpet.

Lady Trevelyan sighs or sobs. He can’t tell. It’s too quiet. Leaning against the wall, he tries to get closer.

“I… I’m sorry Mother. I wasn’t looking for fame. I just wanted to see…”

“See what? My dear, I only do this because I care.” Hands brush through hair. Bele’s voice is muffled, “You’ll understand when you have your own daughter.”

By the time Bele rounds the corner, Bull is back in the parlor.

*

Ixi pulls at her hair, wanting to tear it off her head. Tears drip from the corner of her eyes. Understand? Understand what? The ability to be a bitch to your daughter? A loveless relationship? Constant nagging. Constant complaining. Whining. Being compared to her mage sister Jewel. The pain spreads from her scalp to her neck. She lets go, itching where she pulled.

Damnit. The sooner she’s out of here, the better. How much longer is the Templars going to take? Being the daughter of the Trevelyans, she thought getting into the Order would be an easy thing to do. Easiest thing of her life. Maybe it’s Jewel. Reaching far from the Circle and influencing her life.

But that’s unfair. Her sister didn’t choose to be born a mage nor to be born in an intolerant family. Jewel would never make her life hard on purpose. 

Ixi rubs her cheeks, hiding any evidence of crying. She exits the room, closing it softly. Laughter is carried from the parlor. She wants to join them, take in as much as time as she can with other people in the house, but she can’t bring herself to put on the mask she reserves for company. Instead she heads straight to bed.

She’s halfway up the stairs when she hears Bele call out her name, sticky and sweet. “We have company. Come into the parlor and help me entertain.”

Bull’s own voice rings out as loud as hers. “If she’s tired, let her sleep. She fought bravely tonight.” Warmth pools in the middle of her chest. Ixi isn’t used to being praised like that. Did he want something?

Listen to her mother? Or take the opportunity Bull has given her and run to bed?

Ixi decides to escape when Bele’s voice doesn’t stop her. In her room, she feels like it’s the only place she can be without having to please everyone.

She sheds the dirty clothes, shoving them deep inside the hamper so she won’t have to look at them again. The strangled cry still haunts her. Taking a cloth, she washes her body with cold water, which only makes the energy under her skin buzz.

Ixi climbs into her bed and burrows under the fluffy blankets. Time passes as she tosses and turns. The house quiets around her, voices pass by her door at one point. It sounds like Dalish arguing with a man with a deep, hard to understand voice. 

More tossing and turning. Every time she closes her eyes, it’s there, waiting. The bent in half darkspawn with the strangely human cry. She rips back the covers, dresses in clean clothes and makes her way down to the foyer where her bloodied sword and shield are waiting where she left them.

Cleaning the weapons are the best way to take her mind off what happened at Nabbor’s farm. She opens the door to the small armory her parents keep mostly for looks. It rarely gets used, only as a place where she can sit in silence or store her weapons.

But she has no interest in sitting in a small room, confined by walls. She wants the moon, stars, the velvety expanse of the night sky. After grabbing what she needs, Ixi moves a chair and herself to the training yard outside. Putting her feet up on the fence, she cleans her weapon by the silver moonlight.

“I’ll be honest, Lady,” Bull says behind her suddenly, “I was hoping to find you out here.”

Ixi jumps, holding the half cleaned sword in her hand. “Damnit, you scared me.” His grin returns, white teeth seemingly more white against the gray color of his skin.”Why? Do you need something?”

“Only you.”

Oh. Those words in his voice which is barely above a whisper pulls apart her carefully put together mask. She drops the sword and plops back down in the chair.

“I want you to come with us.”

Ixi snorts. Very unladylike. “Go with you? Impossible.”

“Are you not a consenting adult? Do you not know how to make your own decisions?”

Ixi looks at him from the top of the chair. She nods to the spot next to her which he sits down on. “You don’t understand it. Yes. But I’m my parents’ property. I’m theirs to do what they see fit with.”

Bull laughs. He leans back on his hands and looks up at the sky. “I get the ownership. Being underneath something you don’t think you can question. While I can’t and gladly don’t, you are obviously not happy.”

“Are you talking about the Qun?” It’s an unfamiliar element. Religion? Way of life?

He smiles. “Yeah. But you don’t live under the Qun.”

“Wait… How did you know I wasn’t happy?”

“I eavesdropped on your conversation with your mother.” Bull says it so simply. So nonchalant like pointing out the phase of the moon.

“You...eavesdropped?” Her brow furls and she sits up to fully looking at him. “My mother invites you into her room and you have the gall to eavesdrop on us?”

“Do you really care?” Ixi breaks out into a rueful smile.

“Not really.”

“So. Come with us. We can leave right now.” Bull sits up, bringing himself closer to her. They are inches apart and Ixi’s face floods with blood and warmth. He looks so genuine, like he truly wants her to come with him.

“Still impossible,” she mutters. Is it though? Or she just hesitating as she always does? What would her life be like on the road with the Chargers, a new adventure and place every night? To be a part of the camaraderie that seems to run strong in the group.

“The only thing that stands in your way is you, Lady.”

Ixi puts her sword in her lap. He’s right. She’s leaning towards yes, but can she actually leave everything behind? Will her parents let her? “Alright,” she says far more confident than she feels. “I’m no longer Ixia Trevelyan. I’m just Ixi.”

Bull nods as if this is completely normal and people decide everyday to leave the only home they’ve ever known. Ixi stands with a new purpose. She sheathes the blade, promising to clean it when they camp for the night. Or day.

Fear settles in her stomach. It twists and turns, speaking in a tiny voice.  _ Bad idea. You can’t fight. They’ll only leave you behind.  _

And the other voice. The one that overpowers everything in its wake.  _ Stay. Stay. Stay.  _

It’s hard to ignore these warring voices. She wants nothing to do with them. But they want her. They consume her days, her time and emotions. And they are forever hungry.

Ixi does her best to ignore them as she packs a small satchel, hooks her shield onto her back and her sword to her belt. Bull has already woken up the others, they stand in the hall next to her door, rubbing eyes or silently glaring at her.

“Warm beds, Chief,” says Krem. He’s the only one who isn’t glaring at her.

“We have to get Ixi out of here, Krem,” Bull replies. But there’s something more to his voice, something that Krem understands but Ixi completely misses. An edge that wasn't there a second ago.

And out the door they go. She looks back at the disappearing manor. There isn’t one emotion she can pinpoint to describe this feeling she has. Freedom. Hope. Sickening fear. Worry. Concern. Anger that it is easy to just walk away. They all swirl in her mind, blending into one another until she’s jittery and jumping at every sound.

“Alright! Chargers, we’re setting up camp here.” They’ve gone far enough, Ixi can’t see the manor anymore. It’s either a blessing or a curse.

The Chargers are efficient in setting up camp. Bull chooses a spot that overlooks the restless Waking Sea. A fire is built, five bedrolls are set out around the fire in a circle. Ixi tries not to let the sight of only five bedrolls-she didn’t have her own-pierce her heart. She shakes out the thick, wool cloak, wraps herself up in it and curls up in a small area on the flattest surface she can find.

“Lady, what are you doing?” Bull asks from directly above her. She rolls over, exposing herself to the chilly air.

“Sleeping…?”

“Take my bedroll for tonight. I’ll keep watch. I’m not tired.”

Ixi hesitates. Take his bedroll? Her face flushes from the sudden attention as everyone is staring at her. “Okay…” She slips into the huge bedroll, feeling so tiny inside. It smells of him, musky sweat and leather. She doesn’t mind it. Her satchel is protected underneath her feet, tucked into the corner and her shield and sword are placed right in front of her. As she closes her eyes, she last sees the fire glint off the blade.

*

“Chief, do you think it was such a good idea to bring the girl along?” Krem asks. His feet dangle over the edge of the cliff while Bull sits against a rock facing the camp.

“Yeah. I do.”

“She barely knows how to fight.” Bull rolls his eyes at his second. Krem was too full of logic. It sometimes annoyed Bull. Things aren’t always logical. Sometimes there is strange emotions he can’t quite grasp on. How she’s different. Her hair gleams bright in the fire, like blood. It spans out against the black pillow her head lays on. One hand is outstretched towards her shield as if she’s battle-ready. Even in sleep.

“Chief? Have you been listening?”

“Krem, I respect what you’ve got to say, but I’ve made my decision. Lady stays.”

“Be careful, okay? I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but be careful.”

Bull clasps hands with Krem as he passes to get into his own bedroll. What is he doing? And why?

The night holds no answers from him, only secrets of events to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Ixi’s body is sore. This is something she notes even before fully waking up. Her muscles feel like her mentor put her through the most rigorous workout while beating on her shield. She pushes herself up, one hand rubbing an eye as she finally opens them. It’s still barely light, the fire is burning low. Iron Bull is propped up against a rock, head back and snoring loudly. She’s surprised that didn’t wake her up, she’s usually a light sleeper. 

“Good morning, Ixi,” Krem says from his post on his bedroll.

“Good morning, Krem.” It comes out shorter than she wants it to, but she’s in no mood for pleasantries. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

No. No, she didn’t and it shows. Her back is killing her, arms hurt too much to raise and she feels like the dead. Not answering his question because she doesn’t want to complain out loud, she points at Bull, “Is he okay sleeping like that? I would’ve been fine in my cloak.”

Krem looks at Bull and smiles. He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind. “Yeah. He’s fine. Chief can sleep anywhere, trust me.” 

She rubs her hands together, not entirely sure what to say to the man. She isn’t entirely convinced he likes her. Ixi pushes back the blanket, grabbing the satchel and starts to roll the bed up. Sitting back, she’s cursing herself for being so slow to catch on things. This is something her mentor attempted to teach her, but she just couldn’t.

Krem is suddenly beside her, pushing her gently to the side and folding and roll the huge bedroll until it’s the right size. She sits back on her heels and crosses her arms. She could’ve done that. He takes the straps attached to the end and tie them into a tight knot. She stops herself from snapping at him. 

Does he think she can’t take care of herself? No matter how true that is... She shoots him glares that he can’t see as his back is turned to her.

While he is putting it next to Iron Bull, she pulls her sword out of the sheathe. She cleaned it last night, but didn’t get around to polishing it. Weapons are apart of you. Like family or your own body. You take care it before you take care of yourself.

Ixi pulls out the rag and polish she took from her family’s manor and starts in on the blade. Her strokes are almost lovingly. If there is something she’d take good care of, it would be her sword.

“Ixi,” Krem says quietly from her left. “It’s a beautiful weapon.”

She looks at him. Something angry on the tip of her tongue as he offers no smile, nothing to suggest he’s being nice. Is he going to make fun for having a nice weapon? Nothing like that comes out of his mouth. Instead he sits next to her, grabbing the polish from her and pulling her shield into his lap.

“Thank you,” she says hesitantly, “the blacksmith who did was a good friend of mine.”

Krem laughs. “It shows in the craftsmanship.”

*

Bull is awake and watching Krem. He knows the Tevinter didn’t approve of Bull bringing Lady on when it’s clear she’s naive about many things, but it’s good. All good and he didn’t regret his decision at all. No, not at all.

But there is that niggling little voice he refused to listen to the night before. What if she gets killed in their care? Injured in some way? He shoves those thoughts away. Or tries to, but they remain. Haunting him like a ghost from his past. And he knows which ghost.

Clearing his voice, he draws the attention of Krem. Ixi is polishing her sword, intently looking at the blade. 

The Tevinter leaves her where she sits and goes over to Bull. “Are you totally sure we can do this with her? You don’t think she’ll get in the way?” he asks quietly enough she doesn’t hear.

“You were just helping her polish her weapon, Krem. I think it’s a little late to go back, don’t you?” Krem rubs the back of his neck, glancing back. He shrugs.

“I was being nice.” 

But Krem is right, Bull isn’t sure of anything. But he has to be. If his people start questioning him, then he loses his ability to lead. “I’m positive.” He smiles at Krem and starts clapping his hands. Stitches, Rocky and Dalish all startle awake. Dalish pulls her blanket over her head and turns over.

“Come on people, let’s get a move on!” he yells.

Ixi is inspecting the inside of her sheathe. She pulls back in pure revulsion from whatever she finds in there. “Need some help, Lady?” he asks.

Ixi looks up at him, glaring against the rising sun over his shoulder. “No. I’m perfectly capable to take care of my own things.” 

He raises his hands in self defense. “I never said you weren’t.” 

She seems to realize what she did, horror dawning on her face much like the sun behind them. She opens her mouth to perhaps fix it. Bull laughs it off, dismissing it easily with his hand. “Calm, Lady. I’m just messing with you.”

“You can’ though,” Dalish pipes in, half-groggy and still wrapped in her blanket. “You defending yourself last night was blind luck, not skill.”

Ixi stares at her. The elf is too tired to care, or likely doesn’t care at all. There is a stubborn jutting of Ixi’s chin Bull can’t help but grin at. “You know, if you want to prove Dalish wrong, you can always spar with me.”

 

*

Spar with him? Ixi opens her mouth to say no. There’s no way in the Maker’s fluffy white ass she’s going to attack Bull. Not only is he bigger than her, she saw how he fought last night. The man has the grace of a halla. He lifts a great battle axe from the pile of weapons and gives it a few practice swings. 

“Do you know how big you are?” Ixi says, getting up and putting her shield on her arm.

Bull pauses and grins, a glint in his eye she doesn’t quite like. “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Ixi crinkles her nose up at his tasteless joke. “I meant in size!”

Now his eyebrows waggle. “Again, trust me, I know. I’ve been known to leave a lo-”

She brings her hands up to her ears, clonking herself in the side of the head with her shield. The pain was instantaneous. “No...no more. I’ll spar with you. Just stop with the jokes.” Using her opposite hand, she rubs it. Bull allows her a moment to get her bearings.

Ixi takes a wide stance, her feet shoulder-width apart and shield in front with her sword just behind poised to strike. “Are you ready, Lady?” His grin tells her she’ll regret this.

No she’s not ready, but she nods slowly. Her arms still hurt, shaking at the elbows. She braces herself as Bull charges her much like his namesake and swings the axe down into her shield. Ixi drops to a knee, knowing this is going to hurt.

The axehead hits, jolting her bones. She grits her teeth as he pushes down. She swipes at his legs, raising the shield to reach under. Her swords makes him jump back, taking some pressure off her. With a surge of strength, she pushes up and throws him off. 

Okay, Ixi, she thinks, don’t get stuck under his axe. That could’ve ended terribly. She wants to look at the damage he did to her shield, but she has to trust it won’t fall apart under his attacks.

Bull swings his axe again. Ixi rolls out of the way, but she isn’t used to rolling with a shield on her arm and she barely makes it out of the way. It slices through the air to her right, blowing back tendrils of her red hair.

Fear makes her bolt to the other side of the dying fire. Bull looks on either side of his axe, probably for her squished body. Dalish points to her. “What are you doing over there?”

Ixi leans as well as she can on her sword, breathing erratically, in and out, fast enough to cause concern in Krem. Her heart pounds so hard it hurts. “He…”

Bull shoulders his axe. He frowns at her and says nothing as he comes around the fire, stops near her and inspects her for a wound. “Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice deep with concern.

Ixi tries not to laugh. Honestly, it’s a laugh or cry situation and the last thing she wants to do is break down in front of a bunch of strangers. She’s regrets coming, leaving her parents home far behind. Why did she think she could make it out here with them? “I’m fine. You scared me is all.”

Dalish huffs. She’s becoming Ixi’s least favorite person in the little group. “You can’t run from a fight.”

Stitches fusses over her for a moment until she’s finally let go and allowed to drop the weapons at her feet. “I… I think I’ll avoid sparring with you for the time being.” Weak words. Weak delivery. Just weak. You are weak. Weakling. Coward. She didn’t belong in the mercenary group. She didn’t even belong in the Templar Order. She should be a sister in the Chantry. Work that didn’t require any physical confrontations with enemies.

Camp is packed up. Ixi has the least amount to carry. Bull even plucks the sword off her back and adds it to his much larger pack. Oh… Did he think she’s weak? She says nothing to him as they walk down the main road. Dragging her feet and watching the dust clouds pillow behind her, she falls too behind. Soon the enthusiastic conversation was a distant sound around the edges of her conscious. 

Bele is right. She’s a good-for-nothing girl. Not useful. Not helpful. Even Bull thinks so with the way he grabbed her shield. What’s the point in continuing? If she turns around right now, she can still go back to the manor. Beg for forgiveness. Go into the Chantry and train to be a Sister. Or marry into a loveless, political relationship and bear sons while she stays home and stitches their names into the collars of their shirts.

Seeing as the Chargers barely noticed her absence, she turns on her heel and begins the long walk back to the manor.

*

Iron Bull laughs as Rocky finishes his story. “So she comes into the bar and just sits down!” He has to stop for a moment, clutching his knees as the laughter erupts from him, leaving him breathless. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away only for more to show up.

“Chief!” Krem’s voice calls. He always makes up the rear to keep them from being attacked from behind. “Chief!” His voice heightens in what sounds like panic.

Bull is upright, laughter dead on his lips. “What is it?”

“Ixi. Where is she?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Maker, he’s going to knock some sense into the girl’s head when he finds her. Bull gets everyone to stop. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Krem looks behind him. “Ten minutes ago, maybe. She was dragging her feet and falling behind, but I thought she’d at least keep up or stay in view.”

He has to find her. When he dragged her from her home--albeit she went willing--he gained responsibility for her. Even as she was an adult, she couldn’t defend herself well enough to stay alive. “What’s the closest town?”

“Markham,” Rocky says, pulling out his map. He lays it on the ground, dragging a finger on the small line that marked the road they were on. “About three miles.”

Go to town and then go find her? Get a mount so he’s faster? But the more he stands there to think about what to do, the further away she gets. “Krem take them into Markham. I’m going back to find Lady and we’ll be back.” He tosses Krem a coin bag. “Get us a few rooms to stay in.”

Krem nods and catches the bag with ease. Bull stands there for a moment while he watches his Chargers disappear down the road before turning back the way he came.

*

“Stupid… stupid!” Ixi kicks at a prone rock in the road. Pain shoots up her leg when her foots connects. She hops momentarily, shaking it out.

A scream catches her attention. Where is it coming from? Her pain forgotten, her stomach twists. Is someone in trouble? She shakes off that thought, reasoning it as people just playing. Of course they’re playing. The Maker wouldn’t put people in her path that needed help. They’d no doubt ended up dead. Or she would. Another scream pierces the air confirming her first suspicion. It sounds painful, cutting off quickly.

Ixi grabs her hilt out of habit. She quickly lets go, remembering Bull has her shield and what good would she do?

The last scream that rent the air sends her running towards the farmhouse it seems to be coming from. It’s not an act of thought, but rather one of emotion. Whoever is screaming needs help and whether or not she can actually offer that up, she needs to try.

The door hangs ajar, blood drops splattered on the white paint. “Shit...shit...shit,” she repeats as she pushes the door open gingerly and steps inside. The sight in the family room makes her want to puke. There is a family of four in the middle of the room, laid out all neat in a with their arms over their chests as if getting ready to be buried. A mother, father and two children. Their heads are missing.

Breathe. In and out. Which is a mistake because she gets a full nose of rotting corpse stench and she does puke, right there in the kitchen. She tries to make it as silent as she can because she doesn’t want to get caught off-guard.

Now breathing out her mouth, she walks as quietly as she can up the stairs. Thuds come from the behind the third door down the hallway. The stench is less noticeable on the second floor, but still it lingers. Brandishing her sword as menacingly as she can, she puts her shoulder against the door and her hand jerks open the knob.

A man stands over a woman. Both are covered with blood. The man is holding a knife as he stands above the sobbing woman. “Step away from her,” Ixi says. Her voice quivers in the middle of the sentence. She doesn’t sound threatening whatsoever, but holding out her sword seems to be enough. He backs away, knife held in the air. Her eyes search for something to throw at him as she doesn’t want to kill or injure him. Knock him out so she can attempt to get the right authorities here.

He wears a mask over his face obscuring any features she might identify him with. Ixi’s eyes flicker to the woman to make she’s okay and that’s when the man decides to bolt out the door. She begins to run after him when the moaning of the woman stops her. She sheathes her sword and inspects the woman. She’s no healer, but there are no life threatening wounds that she can see. Mostly fresh bruises and a forever scarred soul. Helping her up, Ixi leads the woman out of the house, turning the woman’s face away from the decapitated family in the room downstairs.

The woman’s name is Luna and she’s a nanny for the two children Ixi saw next to their parents. “He just...burst through the house, He tired all of us and one by one took their heads. I… I don’t know what he did with them. Oh Maker, why?” Luna wails, covering her face as sobs bend her body in half. 

Ixi pats the woman’s hair, unsure of what to do next. With no towns on the horizon, she couldn’t go get help. But she couldn’t leave Luna here alone. What if that guy strikes again to finish the job? She looks around, spying a nimble horse in the field. She points to it, speaking to Luna in a clear voice. “Did you ride that horse in?”

Luna takes a moment to process what Ixi said. “What? Oh, yes. I did.”

“So you don’t live here?”

Luna seems to grasp onto what Ixi is saying. “Yes. You’re right. It’s a good idea. I’ll-I’ll go home and bring back the proper authorities.” She gets up and stumbles toward the horse, then stops and turns back. “Will you be here when I get back?”

Ixi smiles. “No. I’m just passing through.”

She waits until Luna has her horse saddled and she’s riding away from the farmhouse, then turns running face first into someone.

Her first instinct is to fight. She jabs her sword forward as she falls back blindly. The sword glances off something hard and she lands on her back from the force. Ixi’s sword flies from her hand and lands somewhere with a thud.

She keeps her eyes close as her heart is very close to thumping a path of her chest and she needs to calm it. Breathing deeply does nothing. So she opens her eyes and see Iron Bull standing her with a frown on his mouth and a glare in his eye. He roughly helps her up, keeping her shield which she assumes is what her sword bounced off of.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, stopped in her tracks by the mere sight of him. Did he follow her? How much did he see her fail just now? 

“You left. Do you know how much danger you brought upon yourself?” he says quietly, his brow furled deep over his eye and eyepatch.

“So you do think I can’t take care of myself. Well, I’ll have you know I took care of something in there!” She doesn’t need to add that he got away, but still. Anger rears up in her, making her huff and puff like a dragon and tear at her clothes with her hands. She turns to him again. “I left because I don’t why I left! I deserve to be in the home. Not holding this fucking sword.” 

*

What to say to her? What can he say that’ll make her come back with him? His own anger once boiling was now ready to tip over. He wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her. Wants to tell her he wants her for the Chargers. That he believes in her and knows she has what it takes to be someone’s rescuer. 

But he doesn’t.

Bull stops her in her path and looks at her. Into her deep blue eyes and finds himself stuck there. He shakes his head, not quite pulling himself out of her eyes and brings her into his chest. “You don’t understand. You can do it. It’ll take time but-”

Ixi leans into him. “What if I can’t? What if Dalish is right?”

Bull laughs, his chest rumbling. “She isn’t. She just likes to make conflict.”

Ixi looks up at him, her chest flush against his stomach. It churns something in him he doesn’t understand. “Alright. You’ve convinced me.”

“Come, the Chargers are waiting with food and ale in Markham.” He grins and pushes her down the road lest she change her mind again.

**Author's Note:**

> If I have something wrong about the lore, please let me know kindly. I've written for DA before, but nothing like this.


End file.
